


The Gentleman

by fluffy_miracle



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Culture, Culture Shock, Dwarves, Elrond will be the elf we know and love, Elves, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Family, Family tension, Fellowship of the Ring, Friendship/Love, Healing, Hobbits, Hurt Legolas, Hurt/Comfort, It's a love story, Journey, Legolas will be the elf we know and love, Love, M/M, Men - Freeform, Middle Earth, Mirkwood, Not Canon Compliant, Orcs, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Protective Elrond, Rape, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Return of the King, Rivendell | Imladris, Saving the World, Some canon compliance, Story within a Story, The Two Towers, True Love, but my take on them I guess, fading, there are multiple rapes-- I try to be non graphic since it's more about recovery, uruk hai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-11-08 10:09:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17979356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffy_miracle/pseuds/fluffy_miracle
Summary: Legolas, prince of Mirkwood, is forever tainted by the harm done by his older brother. Legolas knows the creature that committed such atrocities wasn't the big brother who helped raised him, but a monster created from shadow, magic, and Sauron's doing. However, the inability of the rest of his kingdom to see him as anything more than a victim who should have died had led to rumors that he is sick and twisted too,  that he found pleasure in his infliction. The only place he feels safe and at peace is in Imladris where Lord Elrond is always quick to assure him that he is a miracle. Elrond who is always helping him to heal, even if it's giving voice to the terrors that still plague him. Lord Elrond is the one who saved him from the monster that took his brother after all.Too late, Legolas realizes he doesn't have to prove himself to Mirkwood, he already has a home with Elrond, but the patient Lord has been waiting for him to realize it on his own. Now he is committed to helping Frodo save their world, and hopefully redeeming himself to be good enough to stand next to the Lord he has come to love as his own.





	1. Chapter 1

Elrond had seen a great many evil things in his long lifetime, but this made his stomach roll and his head turn. He inhaled sharply, steeling himself before he turned back to face the wickedness head on. Laurelin, the crown prince of Mirkwood had spotted him. The once beautiful prince’s skin had rotted away on one side of his face, pale green on the edges of the skin that remained. His eyes glowed with something unnatural, something that also could be applied to what he had been doing to the corpse of his younger brother. 

Weeks earlier, Elrond had received a disturbing missive from Thranduil, King of Mirkwood that something was wrong with his elder son after he returned from a secret mission in Dol Guldor. Thranduil had been right. Something was very wrong with Laurelin. When Elrond had arrived, Thranduil had been in tears although he had tried to fight them off-- Elrond had never seen the other ruler so distraught. Legolas had disobeyed him, had gone to meet with Laurelin, had thought he could help his brother come back to them. Elrond had gone off alone with only his sword and ring. He didn’t want any other to come with him, though many seasoned warriors offered. He needed to know what they were dealing with.

“Lord Elrond.” Some part of Laurelin was still there for he recognized the Half-Elven. “Why are you here?”

“I heard you were unwell.” Elrond started with the truth.

“So they sent for the best healer in all of Middle-Earth.” Laurelin laughed. “I cannot be healed, Lord Elrond, I am not ill. I am finally strong enough to take this country from the weak hands of my father and lead it into the glorious future. The Dark Lord is returning and we will serve him. We will all be transformed!” Elrond’s hand reached down, tightening his grip on his sword. Laurelin tracked his movement. “Do not fear this, Lord Elrond. You will see soon that it is indeed glorious. I can show you.” He took a step closer and Elrond drew his sword, the metal ringing loudly in the chamber. Laurelin snarled, moving much faster than elves should. Elrond, a battle-hardened warrior of more than few millennia, was ready, cutting him down with ease. He separated Laurelin’s head from his shoulders for good measure, kicking the head away from the now still body. Dark magic of the Dark Lord could even corrupt elves. Collecting wood and oil, Elrond made a makeshift pyre, burning what was left of Laurelin outside of the cave.

“Ai, Legolas, my sweet mellon.” Elrond was heavy with sorrow as he sheathed his sword and stepped over to where the younger prince lay. He pushed the blond hair away from those fine features, too young to be struck down already, just entering his prime. Elrond shrugged off his cloak, covering the body. These were dark, bizarre days, spiders leading him to Laurelin’s lair, the usually infected creatures rebelling against this darker evil that had invaded their caves. 

Elrond scanned the room, but there was nothing else to see here. His mission had been half a success. He had recovered Legolas, but until he examined the corpse, he wouldn’t know exactly all that had befallen the younger prince. He should do that now before he had to break the news to Thranduil that he had lost both his sons. He pulled back the cloak to expose Legolas’s head and shoulders, and frowned, halting his movement as something caught his eyes. Legolas’s chest still rose and fell, labored breathing but breathing nonetheless. How? How could the elf still be alive after what Elrond had walked in on, Laurelin desecrating his younger brother, violating him to his death. How could Legolas’s soul, his light, survive such a terrible thing? Elrond checked over the rest of the younger elf quickly, tending the superficial wounds as he went. He went so far to tend the internal injury even though he knew in his heart that Legolas would most likely not survive that one. Those wounds cut the deepests, and while elves were strong, they had not been created to carry such a soul-wound, a violation of all that they were. Legolas had been injured doubly so, his wound dealt by someone who had sworn to protect him: his elder brother. Elrond remembered them as being close, young elflings when he had last seen them, when Thranduil last deigned to visit Imladris for a summit between the three leaders. Many years had passed since then, and Elrond’s heart ached, wishing he had seen some hint that this could happened

Wrapping Legolas securely up in his fine cloak, Elrond carried the fading prince back the way he had came. What tidings to bring back to a distraught father. It brought back memories of a time when it was his loved one being brought back to him, also fading. He shook his head and hurried his steps. He could give Thranduil his farewell, his peace with his remaining son, and perhaps they could get Legolas to a ship before he faded away here on Middle-Earth.

“Legolas!” The cry went up from the camp where the Mirkwood warriors were stationed in their fight against their now fallen foe. Thranduil led the charge that ran to greet Elrond, who took Legolas from his arms, and howled his grief at the fading sky. There was nothing that could be done, but to get him home, across the sea, into the west.

“No, I will not allow it.” It was late, the firelight highlighting the shadows on the king’s face. 

“Let him go.” Elrond gently urged from across the tent. He was coiled up in himself, but he forced himself to look relaxed in his chair. 

“If he is to fade, he will fade here in my arms.”

“It would be kinder to let him go into the west.”

“It would be kinder if you would leave us alone to our losses!” Thranduil shouted.

“As you wish.” Elrond rose and took his leave, giving Thranduil what he had so clearly asked for. Space. Space to grieve, space to hold his child one last time, space to not have to make any more decisions for just a little while. Elrond wondered what kind of send off they would give the younger prince. He had already burned Laurelin’s corpse, not daring to leave any trace of the elf to return in his debased form. Elrond wasn’t sure if he would stay dead if Elrond had not made sure there was nothing left to come back. He had never seen the likes of what had happened to the elder prince of Mirkwood, he would have to confer with Galadriel, see if she had any memory of something like this happening before. 

Elrond went back to his tent. He would have taken his leave, but he had a feeling that he would needed in the next coming days, after Legolas passed. To everyone’s surprise, Legolas lasted through the night, well on into the morning. Elrond was called back before the king of Mirkwood.

“He’s still clinging to life. It’s not natural.”

“It’s a miracle.” Elrond breathed. Legolas even looked better than he had then night before, some color having returned to his face. He started to stir and Elrond and Thranduil looked to each other before looking back at the prince who was opening his eyes. Thranduil recoiled as if he was expecting a monster instead of his child. Elrond had to wonder what manner Laurelin had come back to them: that had never been detailed in the letter. It might not have been important at the time, but the details were always important, especially for one who had lived and seen as much as Elrond had.

“He’s supposed to fade! If he’s not fading, then…” Thranduil paused, but Elrond got where he was headed.

“He was not willing.” Elrond snarled under his breath. What he had walked in on had been sheer evil, an evil that Legolas had wanted no part in if the restraints and injuries were anything to go by.

“Then explain this!” Grief. It was powerful, more powerful than many cures that Elrond knew to heal many ailments. Grief came from within, and the person bearing the grief had to decide what would be done with it.

“This is nothing more than a miracle! The Valar have granted you time with your loved one that they did not grant me. Legolas should be loved and appreciated every day of his life as the miracle he is instead of shamed for it.” What Elrond would be doing if his wife had not chosen the Undying lands over his company. 

“Then you take him.” Thranduil stiffened, a challenge in his eyes. “See if you can make sense of what has happened to my son, or I will simply continue to believe that he on some level enjoyed what happened to him.” Thranduil thought Legolas afflicted already with what had taken Laurelin and transformed him into something vile.

“I would be honored to host your son and help him heal of his wounds.” Elrond replied diplomatically even though the words in his heart were much more offensive. He knew this was a lot for Thranduril to take, that the king was grieving, but he would not risk Legolas fading because his father was not ready to process all that had happened. It was for the best that father and son heal apart, Thranduil in his palace, and Legolas in Imladris.

“Ada?” Legolas’s thin voice broke the tense atmosphere and Elrond was glad to see the proud king rush back to his side and gently embrace him. The love was there if the understanding was not. They needed time, and thankfully as it was for elvenfolk, time was what they had much of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mellon= friend  
> Ada= Dad


	2. Chapter 2

“So why is my father sending me away?” Legolas dared to ask Elrond on the second leg of their journey to Rivendell. They were in a carriage which the prince found insulting. Yet, he was relieved because in his current condition, riding on a horse would be uncomfortable to the point of painful, an even more constant reminder of what had happened to him.

“Did he not tell you? He wants me to tend to your wounds in a place of peace, not one disturbed by traumatic events.”

“I never knew you to lie for him before, Lord Elrond.” Legolas said boldly. He was paler than he should be still, wrapped up in warm clothes even though it was summer. Layers felt safer. They shielded him from the curious glances of his kin. 

“Your father is in turmoil, my prince.” Elrond would not lie for Thranduil. Their friendship, if it could be called such, was always tumultuous at best, reflective of the Wood-King. “He is relieved to have you back and confused as to how he has gotten you back. Wood elves are not known for loving what they don’t understand.”

“He doesn’t believe me.”

“He doesn’t know how to.”

“You believe me?” Legolas looked incredulous.

“Yes, my prince.”

“You believe my brother raped me?” Such a loaded question, such sadness in those blue eyes.

“I saw it with my own two eyes, it troubles me both when I am awake and when I am asleep.” 

“Oh.” Legolas fell silent for the next few hours. He didn’t appear troubled, just processing what Elrond had said. “Ada thinks I should have faded.”

“By all accounts, that is what we’d expect.” Elrond would not leave the prince in a place of despair. “However you are very strong, you have shown desire to live, to survive, to move past such a horrific thing. I find that very commendable and that is why you are coming with me to Imladris. You are a miracle and I wish to make sure you are treated as such.”

“Thank you.” Legolas murmured.

“You’re welcome.” The rest of the journey was quiet but comfortable, the swaying of the carriage back and forth lulling both of the elves into a peaceful state of hope, that just maybe everything would end up all right.

“My prince.” Lord Elrond reached over and gently touched Legolas’s knee. Legolas jerked away. “My apologies.” Lord Elrond quickly said. “We’re here.” 

“Thank you.” Legolas pulled away. “Truly, I’m grateful for your allowing me to be here.”

“You are my guest and will be treated with all the respect due to your rank. No one will look down on you here.”

“Funny how I find myself being looked down at all.” Legolas folded his arms across his chest. 

“I am sorry.” Lord Elrond responded. “Hopefully, in time, they will come to see you as I do.”

“You truly view me as a miracle?” Legolas asked, turning slightly. The moon was shining down, illuminating his fine features. He looked downcast, understably, his heart must be very troubled. Lord Elrond knew he could not ease those troubles for the young prince. He knew only time could heal such wounds. He could provide a safe place and kind guidance, but as a healer, he could not heal the wounds of the soul, only the wounds of the body. 

“I do.” Elrond knew those two words were not enough to sway the shadow of doubt over the prince’s heart. His father’s glances and words had done a great deal of damage. The looks and whisperings of the other wood-elves had struck a wound also. Legolas had much to deal with. “My wife, Celebrian, she was attacked by Sauron’s filth. I healed her best I could, but never enough.” Legolas studied him, the high and mighty elf lord looked lost as he descended from the carriage. “She left on a ship, she was fading, and found it kinder to leave.” 

“I’m sorry.” And Legolas was. He understood that the elf-lord missed his wife. There was something more there though. “You blame yourself?” It was Elrond’s turn to jerk back, glancing at Legolas in surprise. 

“You sense that? You are very sensitive indeed.” Elrond cocked his head slightly. “And yes, I do, if I had just done something more.”

“I think you must have done all you could.” Legolas said simply. “If you went to these lengths for me, how much more you must have poured yourself out for your wife.” 

“You are very kind.” Elrond sighed. “Welcome to Imladris, my prince. May your heart be happy here and your soul made whole.” 

“Thank you.” Legolas and Elrond parted, each being seen to by other elves who carried their things and guided them to their respective rooms. “You’re the one who is kind.” Legolas said softly to Elrond as he left, the words reaching his ears anyway. The prince had a good heart and a keen eye. He was strong, in mind and body. He had been dealt a serious blow, but he was strong. The fact he didn’t fade the night Elrond brought him back assured the healer that Legolas had life yet to live and that he’d do it well. He’d have a long life before he went into the west. 

The days passed peacefully as they did in Imladris. Elrond felt content again, back in his valley, back in his role of protector and keeper. He fell back into his usual rhythm, tending to patients, studying in his library, walking and tending to his gardens. 

“Legolas!” He called out as he happened to be walking through the Great Hall. That was where most gathered to eat in the morning, noon, and night, even if he avoided it most times. Perks of being a lord were to get solitude when it was desired. “How are you, mellon?” 

“Lord Elrond.” Legolas looked worse, not better, like Elrond had expected. He was pale, withdrawn. “I do not wish to bother you.”

“You aren’t bothering me!” Elrond laughed, shooting him a quizzical look. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“I haven’t seen you since we’ve arrived, and since I was your guest, I just assumed-- well, nevermind.”

“You thought you might still see me?” Elrond asked gently. He had been so foolish to give the prince his space. He had thought time alone in the beauty and peace of the valley would be healing. He could see now that he had been wrong. He sat down next to Legolas who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but there in the present situation. “I am so sorry, my friend.” He reached over and covered Legolas’s hand with his own when it became clear the prince would not meet his eyes. “I thought you might want space. I am so sorry my absence has caused you more hurt and insecurities.”

“It’s fine.” But the set in Legolas’s jaw was proof it was not. He stared at their joined hands, relishing the touch. No one touched him anymore. He parted crowds like a boat parted the sea.

“It is not.” Elrond seemed deeply repentant. Legolas guessed the elf-lord meant well. “Solace has always served me well, but you are not me. Come, let’s make plans for tomorrow. Have you been to the waterfalls yet?”

“It’s all right, my lord, truly. Now I know you were not avoiding me with ill will in your heart, I will be fine.”

“Waterfalls, Legolas, have you seen them up close yet?” Legolas shook his head, the closest he had been to smiling since that dreaded day with Laurelin. He had been so foolish to think he could argue with the Darkness and win. He was a fool. 

“I will show you them tomorrow then.”

“What if it’s raining?”

“We will still go.” Elrond smiled. “But I will see what I can do about the weather.” A twinkle on the lord’s finger drew Legolas’ attention but when he looked there was nothing there. “My observant friend.” Elrond commented but didn’t clarify as he looked at Legolas with fondness. “Please let me make up for my thoughtlessness.”

“As you with.” Legolas allowed. “This is your valley and you are the lord here. You have many things to attend to, but if you wish to show me the waterfalls, I would be delighted to see them. They have been my constant friends here in Imladris.” So diplomatic, his breeding showing as clearly as if he was a stallion. Elrond hoped they would get past formalities in the coming days, let the formalities give way to friendship. He had given Legolas his space with nearly disastrous consequences. Now to see what would happen when they spent more time together.


	3. Chapter 3

Lord Elrond sought Legolas out the next day, a little earlier than the arranged time. He didn’t expect to find the prince on one of the higher balconies, balancing on the railing as he risked life and limb as he walked back and forth. Legolas looked unflappable, hair blowing out in the wind. Elrond noticed his hair was not done, had not been done since he arrived, and Elrond had to wonder if it was a reflection of how Legolas felt about himself. Braids usually were used to show one’s rank and yet Legolas’s hair was as free as an elfling without any distinctions to claim. Elrond reached up to touch his own hair, fashioned in the way that declared him to be a healer first and a lord second. The silver circlet he could do without, he decided, taking it off and placing it on the table. 

Looking back at Legolas, the younger elf had halted and was staring down at the ground, a troubled look on his face, as if he was wondering what it would be like to fly and fail, crashing to the ground like a wounded bird… He was wounded and Elrond had no clue as to how to heal him, the only case he had ever heard of where an elf didn’t fade from such an awful soul and body violation. 

“Lord Elrond.” Legolas froze for a moment, catching sight of the lord leaning in the doorway. “You’re early.”

“Perhaps I’m on time.” Elrond glanced meaningfully at the elf’s high perch. “Call me Elrond, please.” Legolas jumped down, elegant and composed, as if the moment of doubt and despair had never happened. 

“You’re early, Elrond.” Obstinate and bold about it, the prince lifted his chin in defiance. “I am not a threat to myself.”

“I’m glad to hear it, mellon-nin.” Elrond smiled. “As frustrating as it is for all those around me, I am a healer first and foremost. I want the best that life has to offer for you.”

“You barely know me. Do you shower all your patients with such care?” Elrond blinked, not accustomed to such distrust. He had healed dwarves with more trust than this strong, fragile, resilient elf before him and that was saying something. 

“I do.” Elrond frowned. “I am not afflicted as your brother was, possessed with Darkness.”

“Do you not find me fair, Lord Elrond?” Legolas pushed even further. “Watching me from the shadows with a look of wonder on your face, talking about loneliness and missing your wife like I wouldn’t notice. Always calling me your prince. I am not your prince.” Legolas spat. “I am no one’s prince.” He finished weakly, sadness drawing him down once more. Elrond drew himself up to his full height, adjusting his robes. 

“I think we should cancel our outing today. We will not reschedule until you understand exactly what my role is in the valley. If you cannot accept that you are my patient and that does entitle you to some of my care, then you may return home.” Fear flashed in those blue eyes, the previously enraged elf repentant almost immediately. 

“Please, no, my lord!” Legolas was pale and shaking once more. “I cannot face those woods or the elves within just yet.”

“I think facing any elf is not without difficulty right now.”

“Aye, you’re right.” Legolas admitted. “I’m sorry, Lord Elrond. I am so ashamed I accused you of such things.” He covered his face with his hands. “You have been nothing but kind to me. I would love to see the waterfalls with me if I haven’t destroyed any chance of us being friends.” He put his hands down by pure force alone, making himself face Elrond head on. 

“Mellon-nin.” Elrond touched Legolas’s arm softly. “There is nothing to forgive. Let’s go see the waterfalls.” 

“Thank you.” Legolas lit up with hope and gratitude. Elrond felt for him, his emotions running so fast and strong, it was a wonder the elf had not fallen from the balcony with the heaviness of it all. He found himself wanting to embrace him if only to protect him from the cold world he had been exposed. He didn’t. Not wanting his motives to be questioned again. He understood, but the words still stung and cut. He forgave Legolas without hesitating, but he would be more careful around him in the future. He could not help the prince if the prince thought he was the next villain lurking around only to-- He could not bear the thought of what Legolas had imagined in his despair and hurt. He would never hurt Legolas. He would never let the elf be harmed while he stayed in Imladris.

That was why when they returned back to the valley after surveying the wonders of the the waterfalls, Lord Elrond called the leaders of his valley together. 

“Is something wrong, my lord?” Erestor, head of his household, looked genuinely concerned. “Have you decided to tell us why the princeling from Mirkwood is here?” Lord Elrond sighed, nodding his head with a grave expression on his face.

“Prince Legolas of Mirkwood was raped.” There were several cries of outrage and looks of sympathy. “His community, as set by his father, has chosen to view him as something akin to a pariah.” Elrond didn’t bother hiding just how he felt about that. “It’s an outrage, but Thranduil would not listen to me on this matter. He believes that Legolas gave some sort of consent to the crime that happened to him. As the only witness other than Legolas, we both can testify that Legolas was not willing. He almost faded in my arms when I was carrying him back to Thranduil.”

“You offered him sanctuary.” Erestor summed up. “We will be happy to guard him in his days of healing, my lord. Such a terrible thing to happen to such a young one. He must be very brave and determined to live.”

“He is.” Elrond replied. “I wish to see him rewarded for such an effort, not condemned.”

“We will do all we can to insure that happens.” Elladan and Elohir nodded from behind their father.

“My sons!” Elrond hurried to embrace them. “When did you get in?”

“Just now. Do you think Legolas would mind if we befriended him, Ada?”

“I don’t think he will mind at all.” Elrond cupped a cheek of each twin. “My boys.” He smiled proudly. “Did Arwen come home with you?”

“Not this time. Lady Galadriel says she has not finished her studies enough, but Elohir believes it is because the Lady wants more time with her.”

“She is allowed.” Elrond smiled. “She is your grandmother after all.”

“She won’t allow us to call her that.”

“Some days I’m not sure if I want to claim you either.” Elrond teased. “Off with you both, I will catch up with you over dinner.” 

“Yes, Ada.” Elrond watched the twins run off, feeling overcome with gratefulness that his children were all safe and well. What happened to Legolas could have happened to any of them, no wonder he felt so strongly about this situation.

“Be at peace, my lord.” Erestor spoke up. “I speak for all the valley when I say that Legolas will be met with no such dark suspicions here. We will all welcome him with the friendship and grace that this valley is renowned for. We will make a home for him here in exchange for the home that rejected him.”

“Thank you, Erestor.” Elrond looked at every face present, all nodding with the gravest of sincerity. Legolas’ affliction had affected them all. They would see that he wanted for nothing here. It was a relief, Elrond found, letting out a breath he was not aware that he was holding.   
“Thank you all.” His voice trembled at the end and he excused himself.

“Ah, the heart of a healer,” Erestor commented, watching the Lord of the valley leave, “it is a heavy heart to bear.”

Elrond’s heart was heavy because on the walk among the waterfalls, face to face with wonders they could only marvel at, Legolas had dared to ask him something that had been troubling him for some time. 

“Am I turning into the monster he turned into?”

“Laurelin? No, my prince, you are not.”

“How do you know? He seemed fine when he was brought back, and then his face started--” Legolas made a motion with his hand. “And then he ran off and the killings started. I went to talk to him, to help him, and he overpowered me, toyed with me for days before he-- well, you know what he did to me. He was a monster, no better than an orc at that point, the brother that I loved long gone.”

“Are we talking about what happened back in Imladris?” Elrond asked carefully.

“I verbally attacked your character. Only a monster would accuse you of what I accused you of.”

“Legolas, what you did, I saw trauma talking, not a monster. You carry wounds that are difficult to heal, wounds that will affect how you see people and their actions. I would prefer what happened today to you holding such feelings inside. My only desire is to help you.”

“I don’t really think you’re trying to seduce me.” Legolas said wryly. “How wise and ancient you are compared to me. You could do much better than a seedling from the Great Wood.” He smiled to himself. “I am grateful for your help and attention, my lord.” They were back to being diplomatic again. Elrond had to smile to himself as he made his way back to the healing houses. Legolas would think that being called ancient was a compliment. He was ancient, but not so ancient that his heart had ceased to beat. Legolas had made valid points. He was fair. And while Elrond was moved more by his plight than his beauty, he felt the need to put his boundaries up. He would have to be more careful with Legolas than with his other patients, different wounds, different needs. 

The image of Legolas laughing as the spray from the waterfall was suddenly directed at them by strong gusts of wind would forever be imprinted in his mind as the outcome he wanted for the young prince. Elrond wanted Legolas to be happy and to be free of all the weight currently holding him down.


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Ada,_

Legolas put the quill down down for the third time. He didn’t know what to write: how he felt hurt by his father’s assumptions, how he missed the Great Wood, his family, and his friends. He knew he could not say how he missed Mirkwood but dreaded returning, knowing that nothing would have changed.

 _Lord Elrond and all of Imladris have been very welcoming to me. Lord Elrond is convinced I will make a full recovery in_ _time_.

Time. Legolas had never hated the idea of time before. As an elf, he had known he could live forever, barring great and terrible events. Now, now that he knew brothers could be turned into monsters and hands could become weapons. He woke up breathless in the middle of the night, shouting for his brother to stop, to just leave him alone. Legolas glanced over his bare shoulder at his twisted bedsheets. He wished he could sleep in peace, but as Lord Elrond would say, that without taking medicine, it would take time.

_There are trees here, but no woods like home. I miss the Great Wood, Ada, and you. The waterfalls are spectacular though, and comfort me when I feel overwhelmed._

_Your son,_

_Legolas_

Legolas’s letter was accompanied by one of Lord Elrond’s, a missive urging King Thranduil to visit or at least write. Legolas was still overshadowed by much grief and Elrond knew that having his father’s care would go a long way to helping Legolas overcome.

Time trickled on like the early streams of spring, starting out small than rolling into a larger body, rolling down. Legolas, being immortal, started to feel the effects of time for the first time in his life: he experienced how time could indeed heal. He had been living in Imladris for years. He loved the waterfalls more and more, knew the woods like the back of his hand. Lord Elrond gave him free run in the valley, as long as he stayed near the sanctuary. When he went off with his dear friends, the twins, he could travel all the way to Lothlorien as the twins never traveled alone.

He was healing and he was growing up.

“Legolas.” He nodded as he passed Lord Elrond in the hall.

“Elrond.” He greeted the Lord warmly, leaning him to hug him briefly. Elrond was a dear friend as were all of his children. He had been a safe person in which to talk, to learn how to let anyone hug him again. Elrond was a home away from home, perhaps more of a home than he had in Mirkwood. He heard from his father regularly, which healed some of the hurt in his soul, but he knew the general consensus of opinion about him in Mirkwood was virtually unchanged. It was the culture, the beliefs they had steeped in for thousands and thousands of years. He was an anomaly, a freak, even if Imladris didn’t think so, his home did.

“I have a favor to ask of you, mellon-nin.” Elrond was proud of the elf Legolas had grown into. He wasn’t the young elf just past the cusp of adulthood anymore: he was confident and skilled, trained by the archers and blademasters of Imladris and Mirkwood. He was as deadly as he was diplomatic, as kind as he was skilled. “I need you to watch the roads coming in from Gondor. Some guests are on their way and I cannot shake the sense that something is wrong.”

“I’d be happy to watch for them.” Legolas was already heading to his rooms. “I will get my bow and quiver and then be on my way.”

“Thank you!” Elrond called, receiving a wave in return. Legolas was faring better than he had hoped, though Mirkwood was still a dark cloud that crossed his face from time to time. It would be time for him to return soon, Thranduil had already written privately to Elrond that the summons would come at some point this year. It was time for Legolas to go home now that he was functioning once more, though Elrond feared some regression upon returning to the Great Wood that the prince missed and dreaded all at the same time.

It was time to trust that Imladris had done its best and allow Legolas to test his wings. He was not the scared, battered barely of age elfling he had come as. He had matured and healed. Charming and diplomatic as ever, yet kind, faithful, and deep. At the bottom of all the reasons Elrond was feeling apprehensive about the prince’s departure, there was one he was least likely to admit. Lord Elrond would miss Legolas when he returned home. They were dear friends, Legolas so unlike the other Imladris elves that were also dear to Elrond. There was just something about Legolas that made him stand out, past their shared experiences facing Laurelin. Elrond would almost say he loved Legolas like a son if it wasn’t the annoying constant attraction. But he was so ‘ancient’ as Legolas had said and Legolas was so young and vulnerable. Elrond would never take advantage of his friend like that, so friends they would stay. Elrond was used to not acting on his feelings anyway.

Legolas felt the urgency as soon as he stepped into the woods. The trees were whispering to him of danger… and blood. He sprinted down the path to hear the ugly sounds of orcs and the panicked cries of mankind. He notched arrows as he ran, looking them as soon as he saw orcs to bury them into. Five orcs fell but fifty more took their place. This was no mere hunting party.

“Call for Elrond.” He commanded the trees, hoping the Half-Elven, though wood-elf he was not, was perceptive enough to pick up the message. Legolas was fairly sure he had a ring of power. That would help. Legolas launched himself into battle, using up all his arrows to even the battleground to twenty to one. Then he drew his knives.

“Help.” He heard a woman whisper before he could throw himself at the orcs. Battle felt good, he realized, adrenaline singing in his veins. He didn’t feel weak in the thick of battle. He felt like himself, whoever that was in the wake of Laurelin’s betrayal. “Elf.” He spotted her hiding beneath a mighty oak, wedged under huge roots. “Their archers are behind the group.” The woman was gravely injured, perhaps beyond saving if the blood beneath her was any indication. “They will ambush you if you charge.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Even with the blood, Legolas could tell she was a noblewoman. “Let me get you back to Lord Elrond.”

“It’s too late for me.” She shook her head. “But I will charge you with saving my son.” She revealed a small bundle, an infant, before thrusting him into Legolas’s arms with bloodstained hands. “Save my boy.” She handed Legolas a ring. “Lord Elrond will know what to do with him.” Legolas recognized the ring from his readings with Elrond, realizing how important this really was. He was being entrusted with royalty by royalty.

“Yes, my queen.” He bowed his head and she smiled, knowing her son could be trusted with such a well-versed elf. Her eyes fluttered and her breathing started to slow.

“Hurry.” She breathed her last as the barks and growls of Wargs filled the trees.

“Shit.” Legolas held the babe carefully as he sheathed one knife and held the other in his hand. He could outrun orcs, but not Wargs. He ran anyway, taking whatever headstart he could get. He wouldn’t make it to Imladris but he’d be closer for help to get to. He had a baby depending on him. He had a kingdom depending on him.

Arrows whistled by him as the Wargs drew closer, howling and nipping as they chased him down. Legolas was running out of lead. Throwing his knife down, he tucked the baby into his tight tunic, before he swung up into a tree. He climbed like their lives depending on it because well, they did. More arrows flew up as the Wargs surrounded the base, snarling and lunging up at the lower branches. Legolas hid them in the heart of the tree, asking for protection and safety. “Hold us, please.” He asked. “Tell Elrond where we are.” He kept the crying baby between him and the tree as the arrows kept kicking closer and closer to where they were hiding. “Aghh!” He cried out as a flaming arrow struck him in the side. He used his elbow to put out the flame but the arrow head had struck true, imbedded deep below his rib cage. The pain was excruciating with each breath he took, and he hoped that at the least the arrow wasn’t poisoned. “Elrond.” He whispered, crying out again as he was struck in the left leg, right in the calf muscle. He held on the best he could as he wedged himself so that if he lost consciousness he wouldn’t fall. The baby was safe for now. He would hopefully be safe so Elrond could get to them.

Elrond and and a band of Imladris’ elves hurried through the woods, the trees and Vilya both passing on the message. It was a race against time, and they all knew it. They came upon the orcs and the Wargs and they slew them all, though not without loss.

“Legolas.” Elrond looked pained as he put his hand against the tree the orcs and Wargs has surrounded, his fingers coming away wet with elvish blood. “He’s in the tree.”

“Why would he hide instead of run?” One of the other elves asked just as a baby’s cry filled the treetops.

“Because he wasn’t alone.” Elrond shed his outer robe and started up the tree with wide eyes and increased urgency. “Quickly. Come assist me!” Two other elves laid down their weapons and climbed up the tree in Lord Elrond’s wake, all the way to the heart of the tree where Legolas clang for dear life, both his and the heir to the throne of Gondor’s. “Mellon-nin.” Elrond’s heart ached to see the prince in such pain, ugly, black-feathered arrows jutting out. Elrond cupped Legolas’s cheek in a gentle gesture that was far more intimate than either of them realized, a gesture Legolas sagged into with relief.

“You found us. I knew you would find us.” Legolas moved so Elrond could retrieve the infant from his tunic before his eyes rolled back into his head, falling unconscious into Elrond’s and the tree’s embraces.

“Help!” Elrond called, and the two elves took Legolas while Elrond cradled the babe close to his chest while maneuvering his way back down. It had been a long time since the Elf-Lord had climbed a tree, and he hoped to not have to repeat the experience anytime soon. “Thank you.” He thanked his companions when they were all safe on the ground. “Let’s return to Imladris. We’ll send out triple reinforcements to all outposts. There is no way these foul creatures should ever made it into these woods. This was far too close for comfort.”

“Yes, Lord Elrond.” And Legolas would go back to the Houses of Healing to recover yet again, but this time as a hero against evil rather than a victim to it.


	5. Chapter 5

Legolas awoke with a start, disturbing the blankets he was covered with.

“Be at peace.” Lord Elrond murmured, smiling over at his dear friend. He noticed how quickly Legolas relaxed when he recognized him, grateful that his presence was soothing rather than jarring. 

“The babe?” Legolas asked, carefully easing on to his side so he could better see Lord Elrond. Elrond shifted to reveal the sleeping baby in his arms. 

“He is safe. All thanks to you.” Elrond bowed his head to the wounded prince. “Middle-Earth is in debt to you.”

“You seem to be opening a home for troubled princes, my Lord.” Legolas smiled through the pain of jarring his side wound. “And I seem to always find myself back in the houses of healing.”

“You will always have a place in Imladris, my prince.” The endearment slipped out before Lord Elrond could stop it but Legolas just smiled shyly down at the bed. “But I would rather you back to your own rooms than the house of healing for longer than a couple weeks.”

“I was supposed to be leaving, wasn’t I?” Legolas asked.

“Yes.” Elrond sighed. Legolas frowned slightly, misinterpreting his response.

“Well, I’m sure I will be well and out of your hair in no time.”

“Legolas, dear Legolas, I prefer you here.” Elrond gave him a wry smile. “I was looking forward to your healing but not to your departure for Mirkwood.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky I keep needing your services?”

“I find no blessing in your injuries.” Elrond was quick to protest. “But my heart is gladdened by your extended stay. I have already written to your father.” He admitted with some shame. “I have a new prince to look out for, to raise, and I would that you stayed to help me and him.”

“What’s his name?” Legolas peeked over at the sleeping babe.

“This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the true, future king of Gondor. The enemy has already tried to snuff him out, but I sense a great destiny if he will accept it.”

“I forget you can see the future.” Legolas managed to sit, leaning forward. “What of mine?”

“You will be loved in the way you desire most.” Elrond blinked, trying to process what he was seeing. “Many in Middle-Earth will honor and respect you.”

“And the Great Wood?” Legolas asked. “Will they ever accept me as one of their own?”

“I have not been granted to see that, my prince. All I know is that you will get the fate you deserve, and more importantly, the love you deserve.”

“I am so scarred already, and not in the manner a warrior should be.” Legolas looked troubled. “Who would want to share their life with me? Who would love someone as unclean as me?”

“Someone will.” Lord Elrond wisely refrained from implicating himself. Such feelings should never be spoken for they could never be received. Better to be the healer and the friend than to be the ancient elf trying to find love again. His ship had sailed with Celebrian.

“Do you think you will ever love again?” Legolas asked innocently.

“Love comes easily to me. I find it easy to give and share. However, I do not think anyone would receive me as I am now. As a lord and a healer, a lore-master, many find me more intimidating than alluring. And while I prefer that to the alternative, I do wish to find someone to spend time and love with. As I cannot see my future, I do not know what will be.” Lord Elrond shrugged. “I have my children to love and another child to raise. Aragorn will be apart of my household as long as he lives.”

“He’s lucky to have you.” There was a tone that Lord Elrond caught that made him wonder if his feelings were returned.

“You also have me.” He promised, memorizing how Legolas’s face upturned, lighting up, all the way to the depths of his blue eyes. He was breathtaking, and Elrond would have been caught staring if the babe in his arms hadn’t stirred. “I must bring him to the nursery. Would you care to accompany us?”

“I would.” Legolas was very careful about getting out of bed. He was bandaged to the best of Elrond’s ability, even the slight burns tended with all the love and care Imladris’ lord had to give. “If you don’t mind getting slowly?” Elrond nodded to the carved crutch that Legolas gracefully took from the corner by his bed.

“Once you master that, you can return to your rooms.” They talked as they walked.

“I do miss my rooms.” Legolas replied. “They are my second home.”

“Imladris is happy to have you.”

“And so is her lord?”

“And so am I.” Elrond assured in a deeper voice. That Legolas was asking for affirmation instead of lashing out or hiding away— that was magnificent progress right there. Elrond thought then and there that Legolas could ask him for anything and he would give it. Legolas just had to ask first. Elrond handed Aragorn to his nursemaids and then escorted Legolas back to his room.

“Thank you, Elrond.” Legolas was quiet for a moment. “You have saved me more than once.” Elrond Let Legolas get back into bed himself, respecting the younger elf’s fragile pride.

“I assure you it was no trouble on my part.” Elrond drew in a breath. “It’s no secret how fond I have grown of you, Legolas, you are always welcome here, even after I am no longer Imladris’ keeper.” Legolas sucked in a startled breath but smiled despite the shock in his blue eyes. He had thought he was just imagining how Elrond was around him. He still vividly remembered the gentle hand on his face in the tree and the way he pressed into the touch. Elrond was safe and yet… this was something new and not safe at all. He didn’t fear Elrond, he feared making a fool of himself. He had grown fond of Elrond also. “Is that okay with you?” Elrond asked gently even though it left him vulnerable to whatever judgement Legolas had to pass on his bold words.

“It is.” Legolas whispered. “I’ve grown fond of you too.”

“Rest.” Elrond recognized how weary Legolas was still, his wounds still troubling him. “I will change your bandages later.” He bent low, pressing a soft kiss to Legolas’ brow. Legolas’ lashes fluttered shut at the affection, and he found it easy to slip off to sleep after Elrond’s departure. His heart felt full and warm for the the first time since Laurelin came home.

Legolas healed quickly with his spirits high and under Elrond’s attentive care. There was something blossoming between them that neither wanted to name yet in fear that it would slip away. There was a warmth and an intimacy between them, as they found reasons to seek the other out, to talk, to touch. It was a season of lingering and longing until one hot summer night.

 

“Come with us, Legolas!” The twins urged their dear friend. They had noticed the shift between him and their father and they welcomed it rather than begrudged it. Both Legolas and Elrond deserved to be happy, to have the shadows that lingered over them too long be cast away. 

“I don’t know.” Legolas bit his lip. They were inviting him to a celebration, swimming in the pools below the falls under the bright summer stars. “How many people will be there?”

“Does it matter?” Elladan teased. “Our ada will be there.” Legolas blushed.

“You said practically all of Imladris will be there.” Legolas kept on track.

“Yes, Legolas, it is hot, we want to cool off, and we want all our friends and family to be there with us. It’s tradition!”

“Are you all naked?” Legolas was even more red as he asked the question that was gnawing at him. 

“You don’t have to be if you don’t want to be.” Understanding dawned on the twins. “It’s safe, Legolas, you will be safe. Yes, some people sneak off to fool around but only the willing. The rest of us swim and look down on their good fortune.” Elrohir laughed. “You will be safe, Legolas. It will be fun.”

“You’ll see. And like we said, Ada will be there. He would never let anything bad happen to you if he can help it. And in Imladris he can.” Elladan smiled as he saw Legolas relenting. He had relaxed almost instantly at the mention of Lord Elrond’s protection.

“All right. I’ll give it a shot.” Legolas took a deep breath. “But ease up with the teasing.”

“We’ll try.” The twins snickered. 

“But really.” Elladan tried to look serious, but soon joined his brother in laughing again, this time along with Legolas. Legolas couldn’t help but laugh when he was with the twins. They were carefree in a way that he missed. They were reminders on how to relax and enjoy the little moments. His cheeks hurt from smiling when he was with them. There was something about Lord Elrond and his family, they made him feel so welcome, so treasured, so cherished.

Tonight should be fun, right? Legolas could still have fun.


End file.
